Man Candy (13 page)

Claire and I sometimes snickered about

it. Not that he wasn’t attractive in a

clean-cut, Ivy League sort of way. But he

wore boat shoes and pants with little

whales on them, referred to his mother

as Mummy, and used “summer” as a

verb without a hint of irony. I wasn’t

sure Tripp’s presence would help me

tonight, although it might make me laugh.

“No, that’s OK. At least we don’t

have to change the reservation if Lindsay

isn’t coming. Quinn can just take her

place.”

“Right. OK, see you there.”

I ended the call and went back to

work, where I was so busy that I lost

track of time and was late getting home.

Quinn’s car was on the street when I

pulled in the driveway, and I half

expected him to accost me in the hallway

with a corsage or something, but I didn’t

see him on my way up.

In my bedroom, I took off my work

pants and blouse, quickly swapped my

basic beige undergarments for something

sexier, and changed into a short gray

sweater dress and black knee-high

boots. I didn’t have much time left over

for hair or makeup, but I plugged in my

curling iron anyway, and while that

heated up, I added more color to my

cheeks, eyes, and lips. When the curling

iron was hot, I curled a few random

chunks of hair and pinned back the sides.

I was just adding earrings when

Quinn knocked on my door. “Coming!” I

yelled. After throwing my lipstick,

phone, and wallet in a smaller purse, I

went to let him in.

“Hi.” He looked me over from head

to toe. “Wow. You look gorgeous. Love

the boots.”

“Hi.” It was all I could manage, my

pulse had started racing so fast. He

looked way too good, and he smelled

fucking incredible. Did I really have to

wait until after dinner to get my hands on

him? I cleared my throat. “And thank

you. You look nice, too.” He wore dark

jeans in a slim cut, a camel coat, and a

blue scarf that matched his eyes. His

scruff was trimmed, and his hair was

parted on the side and combed back off

his face.

“Thanks. You ready?”

“Give me one second.” I went back

to my bathroom and gave myself a quick

spritz of perfume. When I came out,

Quinn was holding my coat, and I

slipped my arms into it. “Thanks.”

While I was buttoning it, he put his

face in the crook of my neck and inhaled.

“Mmm, you smell good.”

The feel of his lips on my throat sent

a tingle down my spine, and I wriggled

away from him. “I’m trying to button my

coat.”

“A thousand apologies. Is there a

rule about sniffing you?”

I glared at him over my shoulder, and

he held his gloved palms up. “Hey. I

don’t want to screw up our first date.”

“You know, it wouldn’t be our first

date if you’d have asked me to your

prom like I wanted you to.” Oh, shit. I

hadn’t meant to say that.

It took him a moment—a terribly

awkward moment—to respond. “I

almost asked you, I swear to God.”

“Oh, right.” I rolled my eyes and

pulled on my gloves before grabbing the

bag with Claire’s gift in it off the coffee

table. “Let’s go. You want to drive?”

“Yes. And I was serious,” he said,

following me out the door. “I did think

about it.”

“Who’d you take, anyway?” I asked

as we walked down the stairs.

“Danica Newman.”

“And was it fun?”

He shrugged, moving ahead of me to

open the front door. “She gave an OK

blowjob, I guess.”

“God, you’re a pig.” I tossed my hair

as I went by him, slipping into the cold

dark. “Well, maybe later I’ll show you

the spectacular one you missed out on.”

“Are you trying to make me hard

already?” He adjusted himself before

shutting the door. “Hey wait!”

He rushed past me as I was moving

down the walk—which he’d also

shoveled. “Let me pull in front of the

driveway so you don’t have to walk

through the snow.”

He jumped behind the wheel of his

SUV and moved it forward a few feet,

then left it running as he got out again.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he

came around to the passenger side.

“I’m opening the door for you.”

“Oh, Jesus. This isn’t the prom,

Quinn. All the chivalry really isn’t

necessary. I promise I’ll let you take my

dress off at midnight if you want to. In

fact, we can skip the dance entirely.”

“Stop taking the fun out of this,” he

said before shutting the passenger door. I

buckled up as he moved around the car

and got back in. “Now try to look

happy.” He leaned toward me and held

up his phone in front of us.

“What the hell?” Before I knew it,

he’d snapped the pic and was tucking his

phone out of sight, inside his coat.

“Gimme that.”

Unbuckling my seat belt, I tried to

get the phone but he fought me off.

“Feisty tonight, I like it,” he said,

laughing as he got me by the forearms.

“But save some of that energy for later.”

“If you post that picture, I’m never

speaking to you again, let alone fucking

you.” I straightened up, smoothed my

hair, and buckled in again.

“Right, because that always works

for you. Now where am I going?”

I told him how to get to the

restaurant, and we spent the fifteen-

minute ride there talking about our

respective proms and other social events

we remembered from high school.

“Did you have a serious boyfriend

back then?” he asked me. “I don’t

remember.”

“Not really.”
I spent my junior year

mooning after you, asshole.
“My senior

year I dated this one guy off and on, but

we were headed to different schools, so

we were never that serious. I did let him

pop my cherry, though.” I said this with a

sly sideways glance at him.

“Oh yeah?” He didn’t look at me, but

I saw his hand tighten on the steering

wheel. “And how was it?”

I shrugged. “It was fine. I wasn’t

super crazy about him, I sort of just

wanted to get my virginity out of the

way. I knew the first time wasn’t going

to be great for me. Seemed like it was

for him, though.”

“I’m sure it was.” The hand in his

lap balled into a fist.

I allowed myself a tiny smile of

triumph.
If you wanted to be my first,

Quinn Rusek, you should have done it

while you had the chance.
“Too bad you

rejected me back then. Maybe it could

have been you.”

“Oh, it would have been me.”

“You sound awfully sure of

yourself.”

He laughed confidently, and some of

my self-satisfaction melted away. “Not

only am I sure it would have been me,

I’m sure you would have enjoyed it

more.”

Now it was
my
hands curling into

fists. Why the hell did I let him get to

me? I practically spoon-fed him these

opportunities! “Guess we’ll never know.

The restaurant is over there. Park on this

side of the street.”

He did as I instructed and turned off

the car. “You’re not mad, are you? I was

just being truthful. That is what you like,

isn’t it? Laying everything out there up

front?”

“Yes,” I said stiffly.

“Good. Now look at me.”

I did as he asked. “What?”

“I know I could have been your first.

And we’d have had fun. But I also know

that I wouldn’t trade the memory of

finding you in my closet yesterday and

everything that came afterward for

anything. Jaime at seventeen was

tempting. Jaime at twenty-seven is

fucking torrid.”

I felt my cheeks getting warm, a

smile tugging at my lips.

“And Quinn at eighteen was good,”

he went on, “if a little fast, but Quinn at

twenty-eight is a hell of a lot better.”

“I like it fast.”

“I know you do. You’re like a

fucking cheetah.” He tapped my nose.

“But one of these days, you’re going to

let me take my time with you.”

Tilting my head, I gave him a coy

smile. “I’ll trade you a date for a slow

fuck.”

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. No way.

I’m getting all three dates, plus the

blowjob you offered me,
and
the slow

fuck.”

“What am I, a goddamn buffet?”

Irritated, I opened the door before he

could play Boyfriend and come around

to do it for me. “And by the way, I think

this should count as two dates because

you’re getting to meet my friends

already.”

“Hmmm.” Quinn’s brow furrowed.

“I’d consider that. On one condition.”

“What?”

“I get to tell your friends about the

snooping.”

“No!”

“OK, then I get to be as romantic as I

want tonight.”

“What do you mean,
romantic
?” I

made a face. “Like, touchy-feely at the

table?”

“If I’m so inclined. And you can’t

squirm away or say anything about it. No

blowing up the game.”

I chewed on the thumb tip of my

glove and thought it over. “If I agree to

play along, you can’t tell anyone about

my snooping in your flat, ever.”

He sucked air through his teeth.

“Wow, that’s harsh. I was really looking

forward to telling that story, especially

the part where I hit you in the face with

my underwear.”

“That wasn’t your underwear, it was

a shirt! Now do we have a deal or not?

It’s cold out here.”

“That’s because you opened the

door.”

“
Quinn
.”

“OK, fine. Deal.” He held out his

hand and I put mine in it to shake, but

instead he tenderly kissed the back of it.

“Ew, what are you doing?” I pulled

my hand away.

He looked at me with that stupid

phony smolder. “God, I love getting

romantic with you.”

My eyelid twitched. “This is why.

This is why I hate dating. All this sappy

shit just drives me insane.”

“I know,” he said, laughing. “And I

sort of care about your sanity, but it’s

going to be really fun to fuck with you in

front of your friends. Now stay there.”

I shook my head as he got out of the

car, came around to my side, and opened

the door all the way. “You
are
a sadist. I knew it.”

“Well, I might be, but let’s save that

for later.” He smiled devilishly and

reached for my hand. “Come on, love

bug. Can I call you love bug? What am I

saying—of course I can! I can do

anything I want tonight.”

Oh my God.

I needed a cocktail.

Stat.

THIRTEEN

QUINN

I HELD onto her arm as we crossed the

street.

“Seriously?” she said.

“Yes. It’s dark and icy, and I can’t

have my love bug slipping and falling

and hurting her precious little ass. I’ll do

that myself.”

She sighed heavily. “Fine. Please

just stop calling me love bug.”

I granted her nothing but a smile.

Inside the restaurant, she tried moving

away from me and crossing her arms, but

I didn’t let her. Taking her hand, we

approached the host together, who led us

back to a corner booth where three

women sat.

I recognized two of them as Claire

and Margot, Jaime’s friends from high

school, but the third I didn’t know. All

three jaws dropped as we approached.

“Ladies,” I said. “Thank you so

much for letting me join you tonight. I

know how much my sweet pea values

her girl time. It’s one of the first things

she told me about herself.” For effect, I

kissed the back of Jaime’s hand again

while she threw knives at me with her

eyes. Then I turned to the table and

pulled off my gloves, sticking them in my

pockets. “Quinn Rusek,” I said, holding

my hand out to the woman I didn’t

recognize, who was seated on the end.

“Elyse Martin.” She shook it, her

dark eyes wide. “Nice to meet you.”

Next to her was Claire, whose curly

red hair fell in ringlets over one

shoulder. “Claire, good to see you again.

And happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” She looked back and forth

from me to Jaime, clearly confused.

“Glad you could make it.”

“And Margot, how are you?” I

greeted the striking, willowy blonde next

to Claire.

“Good.” She regarded me with

amusement in her eyes, almost like she

was in on the joke, and I wondered if

Jaime had spoken to her about me today.

“Have a seat,” Claire said, gesturing

across from her. “Please.”

I turned to Jaime. “Can I take your

coat, honeybun?”

She peeled off her gloves, angrily

shoving them in her pockets. “Yes, thank

you,” she said through her teeth as she